


The Fighter

by knurtt



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knurtt/pseuds/knurtt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A take on Levi's story arc, before the manga/anime begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Champion

Shouting echoed through the arena as man after man flew into walls and, more frequently, the ground. Bottles were thrown onto the ring as the audience tried to trip up the fighter. Shattered glass and a wet floor, though, were nothing he couldn’t handle.  
For him, it seemed like hours had passed. To the crowd, the tiny man in the center of the ring had taken out countless others in a matter of minutes.  
After looking around and inviting others to face him without seeing any takers, he begins to walk back to the barracks.  
He takes a final stride to the stairs before noticing that someone had come down into the ring. The fighter turns and, with daggers in his eyes, seems to just appear in the ring.  
His opponent wavers, looking up at the box where the fighter’s owner sat. Suddenly, he was completely unsure of his decision. He wasn’t having doubts. He wasn’t anxious.  
He was completely and utterly terrified.  
The officiators in the box start the match and the opponent sees his life flash before his eyes. The fighter appears behind him and lands a punch square on the opponent’s back, sending him to the middle of the ring.  
The opponent rolls over and props himself up on an elbow, still recovering from the first punch. He doesn’t have time to get up, as the fighter stands over him, ready to land another blow.  
For a half second, the opponent catches the deathly gaze of the fighter. The opponent had heard all sorts of things about this man, but all the things he heard about his gaze could not have prepared him for it.  
The fighter’s gaze pierced deeply into the mind of the opponent. The opponent could barely keep himself together after being so chilled by the half second of eye contact.  
The fighter grabbed his opponent’s shirt and brought him closer, making him an easier target. At this point, his opponent had just given up, and didn’t try to resist or to move as the fighter assaulted him with punch after punch.  
Blood was drawn from the opponent’s nose, mouth, and cheekbones. After decimating his opponent, the fighter throws him into the wall behind the ring, with the other opponents he had faced that day.  
The owner nods at the fighter and the fighter retires to the barracks, not bothering to clean the blood off his knuckles.  
He’s only able to drift into a state of half-sleep for an hour before he’s summoned again.  
The fighter walks into the ring once more, though this time he’s not greeted with the promise of an opponent. Today, his owner has found his performance excellent, and due to the sheer number of opponents he has disposed of, he is crowned the champion.  
His owner also gives him the only prize a fighter could hope for: freedom.


	2. Nameless

As the champion walks out of the ring, spectators clear the halls. None of them want to wind up crossing his path, fearing the worst. When he returns to the barracks, no one pays him any congratulations, fearing that they may end up like his many opponents.   
He takes his few belongings and leaves the arena. Without anywhere to go, he ends up roaming the underground, beating anyone who picks a fight with him to a pulp. Before long, he’s taken in by different owners, and traded in the fighting business.  
He was an asset to anyone who could get their hands on him, but nobody wanted to see such a scrawny fighter. It didn’t fit the image of the game. After being traded countless times, he was on his own again.  
Unknown to him, there was someone watching his every move. Even since before he was the champion of the first fighting league he was in, someone was watching, waiting for the right time to make a move. And that time was now.  
She approached him quietly after he sat down near a fire to eat. He didn’t mind, since everyone who was there previously had cleared when they saw him.  
“Are you the fighter everyone talks about?” she asked.  
“It depends on what the fuckers say.”   
She isn’t surprised. This is the only life he’s known, and his dialogue reflects it.  
“They say you’re the best fighter in the underground,” she says.  
He interrupts before she can finish “They’re right.”  
“But nobody wants you in their league because the think you’re too scrawny. Is that right?”  
He takes a moment to look at the woman asking him questions. She doesn’t look like she sounds. He expected a small girl in a ratty dress who had caught wind of his infamy. Instead, she looked as if she could be formidable competition for him. Not too small, but taller than he was by an inch or two. She was muscular, and from what he could see, she had light olive skin and long, dark, lustrous hair, which was braided at the side of her head.   
“That’s right. Do you want anything?”  
“I want you to fight in my league, since you’re being so abrupt. Let it be known to you that you’re not the only fighter in your class. There are others with your speed, your skill, and your aura. But there are none that fight like you.”  
“What do you mean by this?”  
“I mean that you would find a home in my league. I treat my fighters very well.” She stands up, and the fighter sees her body adorned with black metals and dark red fabrics. Money was no object to this woman. “I’m sure this is an offer you cannot refuse, given your current situation. I’ll give you some time. If you do decide to join my league, follow the red writing on the walls.”  
The fighter stands up and she eyes him over.  
“You’re not too bad. Do you have a name?”  
“My name is Levi.”  
She takes it in. “Well, then, Levi. I await your decision.”  
With that, she was off, and the fighter was alone by the dying light of the fire.


	3. Home

The decision was almost instantaneous for the fighter. He would do it.  
Moving from fire to fire every night was beginning to take a toll on his young body. He was fatigued, hungry, and dehydrated. This woman offered him a better life. He would be treated well, she said.   
Follow the marks on the wall.  
The task was easier said than done. The tunnels the fighter had to traverse were dark, and some of the arrows scrated into the stone, outlined in blood, had worn down due to the sewage trickling underground.  
Eventually, after a day of searching, the fighter found the place. It was a large, well-lit room with a round table in the middle. The chatter from those seated at the table dies out, and everyone turns to look at him. Directly across from the entrance sat the woman.  
"Please, Levi, sit down. I'm glad you decided to join us."  
The fighter looked at the others seated at the table. The majority of them looked like something out of a wild man's dream, bordering the line between man and beast. A few looked like the men that Levi had defeated in fights. Still a few others were not men, but women clad in armor.  
The fighter pulls out a chair and sits down, overshadowed by the frames of the others. They are not like him. They are not small, in any way. They do not look average.  
"Do you wonder what it is that you have in common with the people seated around you?"  
Levi stares at the woman.  
"Like them, Levi, you are a misfit. An outcast. Unwanted."  
The words sting. It was to be expected, and he isn't outwardly affected.   
"Here, that changes. Here, you are known only for your skill. Your outward appearance does not matter as long as you can hold your own in a fight."  
A relief of sorts. There is no getting past others who are not as open minded. Even here, until this first impression is broken, everyone will see him as a short, angry man.  
There's a long silence as everyone puts together the situation. The woman takes the opportunity to call the meeting off.   
"Warriors, that's enough for tonight. Get back to practice. Levi, come with me."  
The two wait for everyone to leave before getting up. "I told you I treat my fighters well, young man. After I take you to your quarters, I will show you to the kitchen where you can eat and drink your fill."  
The woman leads Levi into a long corridor off the main room. Along its walls, there are doors, leading off to the individual quarters.  
"I get my own quarters?" Levi asks as they stop at a door towards the end of the corridor.  
"Of course." The woman smiles. "If you have no place to truly rest, you aren't able to fight as well as you can otherwise. By the same token, if you're not well-fed, you are not as strong as you can be."  
She opens the door and gestures for him to enter.   
Levi looks around at the room in awe. He's never seen a room this large for one person. At the far end is a fireplace, and in front of it is a large chaise lounge. The floor is covered in the pelts of rare beasts only known to those that have traveled outside the walls. At the closer end of the room is a bed, covered in blankets and pillows fit for nobility. In other places, there is space to keep clothes and other belongings, such as books and weaponry.  
"This is all yours, Levi. This will not be taken away from you after you do poorly in the ring."  
She knows all too well the repercussions of losing or being outperformed. Not because she, herself fought, but because she has seen fighters suffer for so long because of the way they were treated.  
"If you want to rest, I will have one of my warriors bring you food. Your start training in three days. We will speak further then."  
The woman leaves him in the room to take it in. He has difficulty believing this is real at first. After beating himself up a good amount, he is convinced that this is, in fact, very real, and for the first time since ha can remember, he has a home.


End file.
